


i smashed those tiny mirrors inside of your skull

by PUNK_MENACE



Series: lemon boy and me (we just gotta get along together) [2]
Category: Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Crying, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Whump, Gen, Hallucinations, Headaches & Migraines, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Platonic Relationships, Self-Esteem Issues, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vulnerability, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24122569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PUNK_MENACE/pseuds/PUNK_MENACE
Summary: The day after Tifa finds Cloud passed out in his room, certain things come to light. Coming to terms with his visions is a painful process.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart & Cloud Strife
Series: lemon boy and me (we just gotta get along together) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735219
Comments: 25
Kudos: 223





	i smashed those tiny mirrors inside of your skull

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Bad Bad Things" by AJJ.
> 
> Creative liberties were taken given that this is the first FF game I've played. I'm watching a supercut of the og game's cutscenes, so some info might have bled through. Also it might be a bit OOC but I don't mind that much. Catharsis is good!

_He’s in a meadow. A sprawling, unending meadow. Reunion flowers bloom and die rapidly around him. He tries to grab some, not sure why, but he tries. His hand doesn't reach them. Time passes - then he looks up, wondering if the meadow extends to the sky._

_It doesn’t. He wished it did. Instead, he sees his home. Niblheim. But it’s a kaleidoscope._

_He blinks. When his eyes open again, the meadow is above him. He stands in the middle of his village. The buildings are walling him in, fused at the seams. And he begins to destroy it. Cloud knows he isn’t actually moving but the world seems to be pinched together to meet the blade of his sword. He can’t see it happen, but it starts to tear. In the gaps, he sees a pair of eyes. It's a mirror, he realizes. A sword glints in the darkness. A long katana. And he's holding it._

  
  


Cloud jerks awake. His heart is pounding, pulse roaring in his ears. Instantly, he reaches for his sword and pulls it close. It’s simple muscle memory by now. Sit up, twist, and grab. He then slides off the surface he had been sleeping on and falls into a defensive posture. He’s not sure when he fell asleep, but if he’s in Niblheim, he needs to be ready.

_Be ready? For what, again?_ Cloud thinks. _Sephiroth._ His heart skips a beat.

The feeling of the hilt in his hands brings the memory of his dream back in one fell swoop. As soon as he processes that what he had seen was but a disjointed memory of the past, the fog in his mind clears. Though his eyes were open, he hadn’t truly seen what was in front of him for a few precious seconds. Now, the fog clears. 

Tifa is watching him closely on the pullout couch. She’s perched on the edge of the flimsy mattress, ready to spring to her feet. 

Tifa cocks her head. “Nightmare?”

The other Avalanche members aren’t in the room. They must have left while he was sleeping. Cloud lowers his sword and nods. His heart still beats like a drum against his chest, but he knows where he is, at least.

He sets the sword against the wall again and sits down. With his back to Tifa, he tries his best to slow his heart and breathing, but for the life of him, his body won’t catch up. He’s under Seventh Heaven, not Niblheim. _Cloud_ knows this. But his body is rigid from the flood of adrenaline. The nervous energy is too much. He stands again and stretches. 

His hip screams at him to sit back down. The ice burns all over his arms and legs are stiff, though he feels leagues better than last night. “What time is it?”

“Noon.”

Cloud spins around in surprise. “What?” He never wakes up this late.

“Well, we fell asleep at around 2 in the morning. The others woke up about an hour before us, I think. They usually sleep in after a party.” 

He’s trying to listen but suddenly, there’s static growing louder and louder. The world smears at its edges and skews violently to the left. A groan escapes him against his will, pushing through his gritted teeth. Pain explodes at his temples and behind his eyes. His head feels like it’s going to split in half, but he wouldn’t mind it if it meant the pain would _stop_.

“I’m honored.” A voice, a terribly familiar voice. Sephiroth. “The moment our sacred bond was formed remains so strong in your mind.”

The breath freezes in his throat, drawing a strangled sound from Cloud. He pulls his sword from the wall and faces Sephiroth. It can’t be him, though. Because Cloud killed him. Killed him with the very sword he clenches in his hands.

Sephiroth takes another step toward him, lips curled upward. Cloud stumbles backward, almost tripping himself. “Not yet.” Then Cloud blinks and he’s gone.

As soon as the vision of Sephiroth is gone, the world is righted on its axis again. It’s not so much like a puzzle piece falling into place but more like a dislocated joint sliding into its socket. He can breathe again, but it’s painful, and he’s too desperate, so it comes out as a strangled gasp. 

He falls backward, sitting hard. The rickety mattress creaks mournfully. 

“Are- are you okay? What was that?” Tifa’s weight disappears from the other side of the mattress. Her footsteps are coming around to his side - the panic gripping his nervous system is telling him that she's a threat. Fight or flight. _She wouldn't hurt me_ , he thinks. 

She sits next to him. Tifa is the very picture of concern, of someone eager to listen and comfort. He knows that she would understand how terrifying it is to see Sephiroth again. She’s the only one that could hear him talk about visions of a dead man and not call him crazy. Tifa has always been good at comforting people. But she’s too good. She’s diplomatic and therapeutic to a fault, unable to tear herself away from someone in need until it piles up.

He won’t burden her with this. He can’t do that to her, not on top of everything else. All those years ago, Cloud had promised to save her when she felt trapped. The last thing Tifa needs is another reason to worry.

“It’s nothing. Just a headache.” To be honest, his body does hurt. All of it. The burns are itchy, the cuts sting, and his hip aches fiercely. 

The nervous energy hasn’t been burned off yet, though, so he ignores his muscles screaming at him to stay still and begins to pace. He doesn’t want to see the disappointment on Tifa’s face since he brushed her off, either. 

“Cloud, please. I let you say that before because it wasn’t the right time to talk, but…” Tifa sighs. “You can tell me what’s wrong, you know that, right? You don’t have to keep this to yourself.”

Tifa never pushes him to talk unless she feels it’s necessary. When they were younger, she seemed to figure out some pattern in his behavior and narrowed it down to a science. This time she must decide it's time to hold her ground.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“I’m going to worry. You know that, too.”

Of course she would, but saying it out loud...He can’t. It would be too real, not just something Cloud does his best to ignore. No one would fault him for pushing the visions and headaches to the back of his mind while in the middle of a mission or battle. He was getting paid to keep them safe, and when Cloud is on a job, he’ll do his damn best to get it done the right way. This philosophy comes in handy when he’s justifying the fact that he’s been seeing a dead war hero around for a while and hasn’t told anyone.

“It’s just a headache.” 

“Then why did you almost kill Marco? Why did you look so damn scared?” Tifa rises from the bed and intercepts him. "It's just you and me, Cloud."

Cloud stops pacing, eyes turned down to his boots. He tries to focus on the comforting weight of his sword on his back, the solid floor beneath his feet, the innate knowledge that Tifa is someone safe to come back to. He’s shaking, though. Every inch of him is trembling and he knows Tifa can see.

If he can’t trust Tifa, he can’t trust anyone. She’s done everything in her power to be a source of strength for him - and he needs to repay her. She deserves better than to talk to a brick wall, to put so much effort into making him comfortable and receive nothing in return. She deserves better than him. All he can do is try to live up to the man that should be her best friend.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Cloud makes his way back to the pull-out couch. He lowers himself down slowly, wincing when his hip protests loudly. Tifa comes to sit next to him.

“I didn’t want to worry you in the middle of everything. But I…” Cloud presses his fingers to his temples, then digs them into his forehead. A headache is creeping around his skull, though it feels like any other headache. No static, no Sephiroth. “If I’m going to keep helping out, I can’t be a liability. And you deserve to know. I’ve been seeing things.” There, like ripping off a bandaid. Except that admitting it has made it real and he’s shaking in earnest now. “Sephiroth. My head starts to hurt, like a vice tightening around my skull. There’s static. Then I see him. But he’s so real...he hasn’t changed at all. Same eyes. Same voice.” Cloud curls his hands into fists, leaning hard on his knees. Tifa is frozen, not having said anything. He glances at her and sees shock giving way to fear. “No one else ever sees him. I don’t know if he’s real or not, Tifa. I can’t- can’t tell. But I killed him. I _did_. I--”

Cloud killed him. He remembers, doesn’t he? That day in Niblheim after his mother was killed. After Tifa was nearly killed. He killed Sephiroth.

_Didn't he?_

When he tries to think about the sensation of his sword slicing through Sephiroth, absolutely no memory comes to mind. He tries to remember what came after the scraps he does remember. Nothing. 

Did he kill Sephiroth? Has he truly been hallucinating?

A low, guttural groan escapes him. He can’t breathe right. His stomach jolts painfully at the realization that he truly can’t remember. Agony slices through his head like a cold blade. He doubles over, digging his elbows into his knees and grips his hair, trying to keep his head from splintering.

Tifa calls his name, and though her voice is soft, he flinches violently.

“Hey,” she murmurs, “Hey, it's just me. Can I touch you, Cloud?”

His chest hurts. It feels like something huge is sitting on it. He’s breathing too quickly, so there’s too much oxygen in his body. Robotically, he notes that he’s getting nauseous. Ticking the boxes off in his mind as though he’s still on the battlefield, listing off all his injuries to decide whether or not he’s dead weight. “Yeah.” His voice shakes. He tried so hard to keep it steady. Though he’d never fault Tifa for letting herself feel through her emotions, he can’t help but feel disgusted at his display of weakness. He never could just cry without a heaping helping of self-flagellation.

“Is it okay if I put my arm around you?” Tifa would never touch him without his permission. Not like others that grab and pull and push with no warning.

Rubbing his hands on his thighs, Cloud nods, not wanting to speak again. Tifa wraps her arm around him, slow again. It grounds him, gives him something else to focus on while he rides out the panic attack. 

“You’re safe,” she murmurs, “You’re okay. I’m with you, Cloud.” 

He shudders, gritting his teeth. Every nerve in his body feels raw. Beads of sweat roll down his back. An overwhelming sense of doom and dread pressing bearing down on him. Tears prick his eyes. Cloud blinks rapidly and bites the inside of his cheek, trying desperately to keep them from overflowing. He knows he won’t win, but he tries anyway. The moment the first tear drips down toward his cheek, he feels something shatter. 

The fear he had been keeping back all this time since the day he first saw Sephiroth again is enormous. Like a beast rearing its head, Cloud feels his heart speed up further, feels his body’s threat response double in force, and he can’t help but bury his face in Tifa's shoulder and sob. 

“I c-can’t fucking _remember_ , I don’t- it’s just not there- but,” he gasps, “I did, didn’t I? I-I killed him, I did, for my- my mom…”

Tifa holds him like he’s something precious. She cards her fingers through his hair, smooths a hand down his back. Slowly, he feels the panic drain out of him, leaving him exhausted. He leans against Tifa, eyes sliding shut. A ball of shame forms in his chest like a tumor. The one thing he wanted to avoid was crying, even if it’s in front of Tifa. Cloud has never been good at vulnerability, to say the least. Somewhere along the line, it became nigh impossible for him to cry, even when perfectly alone. Crying in front of someone else, regardless of whom, leaves him feeling like he’s been flayed.

“You with me, Cloud?” She asks softly. Her voice washes over him, bringing him back. 

“Yeah.” He rasps. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” Tifa leans back a little and cups his face. He can’t look her in the eyes. “You don’t have to be sorry. Feeling better?”

Cloud doesn’t answer, taking a second to untangle himself and leave his sword against the wall again. He lies back on the mattress, resting his head on his hands. “A bit. Thanks.” Though it did help to get the whole mess off his chest, the fact that he can’t remember a big chunk of time is still a problem. It also didn’t cure his...whatever they are - visions or not. Sephiroth may or may not be out there, or just in his head, and either way, it’s an issue he’s going to have to deal with among everything else that Avalanche has going on.

Tifa lies down next to him on her side. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Whenever you see him, how can I tell? Is it when you get dizzy and zone out?”

He nods. “It’s not really that I’m dizzy, though. My head just starts feeling like it’s going to split. I hear static, and then he’s there. Sometimes I don’t see him and it’s just a black feather.”

She hums and flops onto her back. Then she taps his hip lightly. He looks down and sees her hand is open, waiting. He gives a ghost of a smile and laces his fingers with hers. 

“I’ll keep an eye on you, then. Make sure you don’t get into trouble. Though we both know that’s impossible,” she chuckles, “Then I’ll save your butt.” 

He nods sagely. Somehow she makes it so easy to fall back into their usual rhythm even after he cried his eyes out. “I appreciate it.”

They lie in silence for a while, but not too long. He knows there’s plenty of jobs waiting for him - one of them probably being cleaning the blood off of Marle’s stairs. Tifa also has to open the bar, though barely any people come into the bar midday. 

He lets her go up the pinball elevator first. While it's occupied, Cloud takes the opportunity to steel himself. He closes his eyes, takes several slow, deep breaths. He assesses every inch of his body and decides that some light work would be fine today. Tomorrow, he'll get back to fulltime merc activity. Once that's done - the elevator coming back down at this point - he picks through his mental state. Only a flicker of shame is left from breaking down in front of Tifa, though that will probably go away on its own. The embarrassment from last night flares up, leaving him blushing again, which he hates. Aside from that, it's business as usual.

Stepping onto the elevator platform, he plants his feet and closes his eyes again. In, out. Cloud pushes every ounce of emotion down, imagining that he's crushing a can. It helps to have a mental image. By the time he emerges into the bar to see Tifa and Marlene laughing together, there's almost nothing left. A bit of anger he can never quite suppress completely. When he looks at Tifa, he feels affection and gratitude. He supposes that's not too bad.

He waves goodbye to them and begins making his way to the apartments, hoping that Marle won't be too difficult.

**Author's Note:**

> Suppress those feels, Cloud. Woo. It's an effective coping mechanism! Right? Anyways, I didn't like how this one turned out as much as the last but whatevs. Hope y'all enjoyed!
> 
> Here's my [Tumblr](https://james-writes-occasionally.tumblr.com/) in case you want to drop a request or send me a message :D


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